


The Bee Sol-ution

by Afgncaap



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternian Revolution, M/M, Sollux is Karkat's little bedbug, Sollux&bees, Sollux's lisp gets out of control, an attempt at portraying bipolar disorder, cheesy as lasagna, descriptions of moderate gore, mentioned pale Feferi/Sollux, mentioned pale Gamzee/Karkat, no frickle frackle, overdramatic matesprits, surprisingly the trolls swear quite a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afgncaap/pseuds/Afgncaap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is up to his freakish mutant eyeballs in problems as he tries to head the latest Alternian Revolution. The people call him their "Savior," but he can't help but feel like a useless piece of shit, especially ever since they realized that the escape route for his troops' safe haven is absolutely littered with old Imperial landmines. Even better, he hasn't seen his psychotic matesprit in nights ... Gog only knows what trouble that asshole's gotten himself into.<br/>They need a miracle, and not the kind that Gamzee always rambles on about. It does end up being nearly as ridiculous, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bee Sol-ution

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, but your followers have taken to calling you their beloved CRIMSON SAVIOR, a title you just can’t seem to shake. The THIRD GREAT REBELLION that you and your friends incited has been raging for ALMOST A WHOLE FUCKING SWEEP now. You used to suffer from CHRONIC INSOMNIA as an adolescent troll, but now that countless lives depend on you, the CONSTANT STRESS AND ACUTE GUILT FROM YOUR PATHETIC FAILURES make even the strongest of sopor-slime completely ineffective. The only reason that you haven't had a TOTAL MENTAL BREAKDOWN is thanks to the support of your friends and a couple of quadrants who are EVEN MORE SHITHIVE MAGGOTS than you are.

* * *

 

Somewhere on Alternia, in a location so secret that sometimes you doubt that you should even know where it is, the rebels have posted a sort of a base camp for their eastern forces and commanders to inhabit. Which means that, naturally, everyone knows where it is.

The tents are only just enough to keep out the sunlight during the day, but it's a whole lot better than half of you awkwardly squatting under trees and rocks with blankets on your heads all the time. You like to pretend that phase of operations never happened. How on Alternia was past you so shitty at planning ahead? Stupid, stupid Past Karkat!

…

Self-loathing aside, it's been rather nice for you and your fellow commanders to have a relatively permanent place to stay. This particular camp's been up for at least a few perigrees now, a lot longer than the previous outposts lasted. At least you think it’s been that long ... keeping track of time isn't your division.

No, you get to be the lucky bastard who has to try his fucking best to hold everything together and send virtually untrained troops into battle in hopefully not completely idiotic ways, despite the fact that you have no experience with even the most mundane of military tactics!!! Even those times way back when that Ampora asshole used to try to get you to play chess with him, you’d always end up flipping the board over in a rage. Speaking of that douchebag, you really wish that you had that pretentious sea-hipster to advise you or to even to take over your job entirely; unfortunately he's too busy with his prissy highblood espionage gig. You suppose that there are at least some pros to him being absent ... you don’t have to worry about him pissing off pretty much everyone he comes into contact with anymore, for one. 

Anyway, you've gotten pretty comfy in this camp. Actually being able to sleep in sopor (when you can keep your moirail away from it) has been pretty good for you. You actually managed to get a few hours of sleep yesterday and the bags under your eyes are at least a few shades lighter now! It's at least enough to keep a certain jadeblood from being quite as fussy over you as she normally is. You simply cannot tolerate fussy, motherly meddling without great resistance and extensive expletives. She’s not even filling a quadrant, she just lurks around and cares like she’s infected with some diseased feelings of twisted friendship! You can’t help but feel that it’s been pretty nice not to have to go through the worst of her fussing lately, despite the part of you that feels like that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Unfortunately, while you’re pent up relaxing, those empirical bastards are dead set on completely obliterating you and the unfortunate morons who think that following you is a good idea. You find yourself sitting in your personal tent, one significantly fancier and redder than you'd like but cozy and YES you are sitting backwards in your chair those other fuckers can just DEAL WITH IT. You’ve been stuck staring at a map of the area for a while now, long enough to make your head hurt and your vision swirl. Perhaps if you look long and close enough, a path to victory will magically appear. Such a miracle might set you spinning enough to tempt you into slamming one of those disgusting sugar-sappy sodas with your diamond "brother." 

However, for now all you can see is a little clump of friendly markers cornered by a two-dimensional mountain, a giant mass of menacing enemy markers that have been getting closer every damn night, and a spattering of lots of threatening red Xs to one side where unfortunate trolls have gotten blown to bloody rainbow chunks by the fucking land mines that, until the gory incident a few weeks ago, no-one even knew were there. You'd been kind of counting on that area as an escape route, but now ... Something has to give. Hopefully it won't be your brainpan collapsing, either by a spontaneous black hole of frustration or by a subjugglator's serrated club.

The curtain to your tent flies open, startling you enough that you nearly slam your face into the back of your chair. Of course, you don't – that would be utterly stupid and ridiculous. But you do manage to tangle yourself in the legs of the chair as you try to stand up and confront the visitor. With all the elegance of a little pink ballerina, you flail your arms helplessly as your face plummets to its inevitable confrontation with the ground. 

In response to your flawless grace, your visitor roars in uncontrollable laughter, much more enthusiastic than you usually hear from him. You would normally be more irritated, but at the moment you’re just thankful to see him. By the time you manage to get up and stand before him, he’s managed to stifle his guffaws into light snickers, wiping yellowed tears from his eyes. Next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the shoulders and you’re barraged by frantic speech, rendered completely unintelligible by extreme speed and a lisp exacerbated by careless haste.

“KK! KK! Tho, tho you know abouttheproblem, the one withalltheminethandwecan’tgo anywhere and theempericaltharegettingreallyclothe and and I thought that maybeIcouldfindthem with computerth and thcannerthbutitdidn’twork and-“

You shove him roughly away from you. “SHUT UP FOR A GOGDAMNED SECOND, WILL YOU? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU FOR THE LAST FOUR NIGHTS? DID YOU RUN OUT OF MEDS AGAIN? HAVE YOU EVEN SLEPT AT ALL!?” You only manage to cut into his rant by screaming loud enough to make your head throb. Sollux just stares at you blankly for a moment, glares, and distractedly shooshes you in the most uselessly platonic, lispy manner you’ve ever seen, pathetic even when counting the shittiest of your beloved rom-coms. It’s probably for the best, considering how psychotic Gamzee gets; who knows what would happen should someone else pap you? 

Instantly, the mage is ranting again, “You remember, though, how then TV tried uthingtheanimalth two thmell them but theyallthetthemoff and TV cried and then I thoughtmaybeofotherthingth thatcanthmellwell and then I knew what I could utheandthoIdid and KK! You have tocomethee!”

By the end of his frenzied lecture, Sollux had reached out and began to shake you violently in his excitement. Oh fuck, you are now 100% positively certain that he’s gone off the deep end again, oh Jegus. Your head throbs even harder as he rattles you. Thankfully, Sollux lets go so that he can run out of the tent, exclaiming something along the lines of, “Here, I’ll thchow you, follow me!”You take a moment to nurse your aching brainpan. If only Feferi was here instead of halfway across the continent so that she could calm that lunatic the fuck down … you’d better follow him before he breaks something. With that thought, you’re out the tent and running into the trees.

* * *

 

You come to a stop, panting heavily. Several crude signs, the ones your troops put up a few days ago, litter the perimeter of a bloody, ravaged field, warning stupidly curious trolls away. The mine distribution in this section is the perfect deadly balance of unpredictable randomness and brutal liberality. It’s been a while since the bombs were planted, long enough for some of the plants and smaller bugs to return. Sollux is standing right at the edge of the bordered area, waving at you with a manic grin. What the hell compelled him to bring you here? You had better get the rest of the way over there before he does something really, really stupid.He calls out to you, “Okay, KK, they’re alloutthere, jutht watch!” Turning to the field, Sollux braces himself to run. Your blood-pusher shudders before leaping into a frenzy, pumping your sickly bright juices faster and faster as you take off at a sprint. “STOP, YOU FUCKING IDIOT, STOP!” 

Too late you reach the edge of the danger-zone. You watch helplessly as your matesprit bounds madly into the bloody gauntlet of death. Falling to the ground, you jam your eyes shut and smother your ears. You don’t want to witness the inevitable; just picturing his grub-sauce like fluids spattered about is bad enough. Why, why, why, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fu-

You tense at the touch of hands on your shoulders. Uncovering your ears, you realize that your mantra was aloud, shouted even. Your eyes then uncovered, you look up to see two familiar orbs, in faintly glowing red and blue. What, but, bu- How? What in the hell just happened? Was this all some sick prank? Your mind screams profanity, you wants to yell yourself red in the face in rage, and yet you can only sit, stunned. How is Sollux alive?

"Thchit, KK, I didn’t think you'd freak out tho much. I mean, don't you trutht me more than that?" His brow furrows in concern and confusion, emotions that honestly should be reserved for you in this moment, and he sits himself down next to you. He’s so fucking calm and you just can’t stand it, he even has the nerve to look hurt by your lack of confidence; you turn to him fiercely and explode.

"SHUT UP, NOOK-FACE, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S A FUCKING MANIC PSYCHO HALF OF THE TIME. YOU REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU HAD SOME FREAKY VISIONS AND GOT IT INTO YOUR THINK-PAN THAT YOU WERE IMMORTAL? YOU WERE SO HIGH ON YOUR STUPID DISORDER; YOU KEPT RANTING ABOUT TIERS AND JUSTICE AND HEROICS AND DIDN'T BOTHER EATING FOR WEEKS, CONVINCED THAT YOU’D BE FINE!!! I HAD TO RISK A VISIT TO THE FUCKING CITY JUST TO FORCE YOU TO EAT SOMETHING!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE EVEN REMOTELY SANE WHEN YOU PULL THIS KIND OF SHIT? THIS ISN’T ABOUT TRUST, JUST, WHAT THE FUCK EVEN WAS THAT!?" 

The rant leaves you panting. Sollux looks down, abashed. “I … I guess that would look pretty bad, what I did back there, uh … I just got so excited and everything wath going two be fine and I tholved our problemth!” He throws his hands up in the air, remembering his excitement. Turning solemn, he lowers his hands again. “I guess I’m just a big crazy athhole then, huh KK?”

Gog, he’s giving you the glowy puppy eyes, how does that even work without pupils? You sigh and maybe, just maybe, there’s a bit of a smile to it. “Yeah, you’re one of the biggest, craziest assholes out here. I guess that makes us match.” As he laughs at this, you notice that his nasal chuckle reverberates oddly as you lean into his side. It’s nice.

“No, but really, what the fuck was that?” you demand suddenly, pulling away.

“Oh, uh, you see … The other day, a week ago I guess, I was working with the mind bees for my silicomb, trying two thet up new programs and protocols. It’th almost an artform, you have two balance programming and repetitive training two get them two do what you want. I was getting them two detect the markerth of a certain error that kep-“ You cut his ramble short.

“Sollux. The point, please?” See? You can be polite, you even said please! The interruption and eye-rolling weren’t the best behaviour, but you’re decent!

“Right, right, thorry,” Sollux says, “I realized that I could probably program the bees two do thomething completely unrelated to computers if I went about it the right way. So, I trained them into associating the smell of explosives with food. Now, if I let them go near a minefield, they fly straight two the mines and gather there. Bee-ing two light two set the bombs off,” he never can resist a good honey-pun, “they can serve as markers for where the mines are. Then our forces can carefully disarm them or avoid them entirely!” The Captor finishes his speech with a wave of his arm and a gentle bow of the head.

Come to think of it, there had been an oddly dense concentrations of the striped creatures in the field just now. "So, as long as you don’t tread by the stupid bees, you don’t get blown to fucking kingdom come? Nice … only you would think to use fucking bees to sniff out land mines, you know "

He glares somewhat, “Except for the ‘stupid bees’ bit, that’s it exactly! Once I breed enough of these guys, we can send them off with the troops two release into this and future battlefields so they know where two walk. Hell, they can even try two trick those empirical douchewads onto the plates that way! I’ll have two make them insecticide resistant, though, in case the enemy figures out what we're doing and tries two pull something. Also, we gotta make sure that people understand that the honey the bees make isn’t a fucking snack, especially the psionicth!”

You muss up his weird hairstyle and snort, "Yes, yes, I get it; under no circumstances are we to eat the mind honey. But really, Sollux, you’re a fucking genius. This honestly might level the battlefield, and not in the usual, blown-to-shit kind of way either." You get to your feet as you speak, ready to head back to tell the others and to get back to work.

"Eheh, I know. I’m just amazing like that." Sol remarks briefly. Turning back, you give him a good smack on the back of the head.

"Hey, don’t let that head inflate too much, fucknut, or you might not be able to fit in our porta-cupe. That would be quite unfortunate, wouldn’t it?” You scold him with a not-so-subtly raised eyebrow before walking away.

Sollux just chuckles and continues sitting lazily. In the corner of your vision, he snaps his fingers and the bees flock to him. He whispers to them for a moment and waves them away again. They begin to swarm, slowly heading over towards- "FUUUUUCK! CAAAAPTOOOOR!!!!!!" Your cries ring out across the landscape as you sprint away, scared shitless.

"EHEHEHEH! OH MAN, YOU'RE PRICELETH!” His racous laughter echoes through the field as he rolls to the side, clutching his sides. Stilling himself somewhat, Sollux mutters fondly, “thothe little cuties don't have real stingerth anyway,” as he wipes away golden tears.

**Author's Note:**

> No, they aren't always perfectly in character. No, I probably didn't portray bipolar disorder correctly (but I tried). I just thought that this would do much more good uploaded here than gathering dust on my hard-drive. Also, if you see error in the text that I missed, please let me know, don't be shy!
> 
> Inspired by a news story about mine-sniffing bees.


End file.
